


Avengers: Rise of the Defenders

by Trudi_Rose25



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Espionage, F/M, Romance, Superheroes, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2348687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trudi_Rose25/pseuds/Trudi_Rose25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With SHEILD in ruins Tony Stark decides to create something special to defend the earth, but when his plans fall to pieces will he be able to depend on his fellow avengers to save the day? An imagination of what next year's movie Age of Ultron will involve!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The gentleman ordered a beer and took a seat on the terrace overlooking the high street. From there he had the perfect view of both the park, the bank and the subway entrance, he could keep a close watch on everything going on around him. It was bitterly cold outside and he was the only person on the terrace. He pulled up the collar of his jacket and adjusted his hat to cover his ears. He pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and checked for any messages. It was empty. Good. That meant everything was running smoothly.

The bright afternoon sun burnt his eyes so he reluctantly pulled on his sunglasses, this wouldn't make him look as inconspicuous as he'd have hoped but his eyes were his livelihood and they had to be protected at all costs.

He decided he would wait out at the roadside café for an hour or two, observing the lunchtime rush. If he couldn't collate anything useful from his watch he would head back to his hotel, change and try a different café or bar or restaurant, anywhere with a good lookout. He took a sip of his drink, it was ice cold and refreshing. Around him most people carried steaming cups of tea or coffees laced with vodka to warm themselves against the harsh Moscow weather, but he preferred the crispness of his beer, it would keep him alert and fresh.

"For a spy you sure do a shoddy job of staying hidden," the female voice was husky and familiar. He turned to the table next to him where a red haired woman clad in black leather sat reading the morning paper. She gave him a smug smile.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the man demanded gruffly.

"Good to see you too Clint," Natasha Romanoff folded her paper and came and sat opposite him, blocking his entire view of the subway. "I'm glad you're your usual cheerful self."

If there was one thing Clint Barton really hated it was being rumbled. How had he not spotted her? He had thought he'd had the perfect lookout. It seemed he needed to work on remaining undetected.

"How did you find me?" he asked Natasha who still looked mildly amused.

"I have my ways," she said with her usual vagueness, Clint sighed, he should have known he'd never get a straight answer from Natasha. "Besides," she added eyeing his beer "you're the only person who's not drinking vodka."

"Maybe next time I'll force myself to drink it," Clint suggested feeling irritated, he might as well have had 'tourist' tattooed across his forehead. "You didn't answer my question," he pointed out "what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied coolly. Clint didn't answer but after a moment or two could see that she had no intention of sharing any details with him about her agenda so gave in.

"I'm job hunting," Natasha gave him a questioning look and he smirked "don't forget Nat, I'm currently unemployed thanks to you and your buddy Rogers." With SHEILD gone Clint knew he had taken the first plane to Russia. He needed a new agency, or at least someone to report to, Clint didn't kind doing dirty work, so long as he had guaranteed protection and cash. Russia was the place to be he just needed to keep his eyes open.

"You do realise that Steve and I exposed HYDRA don't you?" Natasha quipped, a flash of anger in her eyes.

"Steve now is he?" Clint noted with satisfaction "what you do to get him on a first name basis?" Natasha ignored his jibe,

"Where were you when SHEILD fell?" she asked him and Clint began to feel like he was being interrogated "we could have used your help."

"I was unavailable." Natasha gave him a cold look. What did she want to hear? Despite all their years as colleagues and even friends Clint still couldn't quite work her out. "What are you suggesting Nat?" she didn't reply and Clint saw what was happening. "I get it," he said "you want to know where my loyalties lie. SHEILD or HYDRA. Am I right?"

"I need to know whether I can count on you or not." She replied.

"If you honestly think I was a HYDRA agent then you're not the SHEILD agent I thought you were." Clint could feel his anger rising, his fingers twitched with anticipation. Natasha seemed to lose some of her cool exterior.

"I want to know why you weren't there to help us take down the Helicarriers," she snapped, her fist slamming down onto the table. "it wasn't just another run of the mill mission, Steve nearly died!"

"Am I supposed to care about Steve Rogers?" Clint snapped back at her "he's long past his sell-by date as it is." That cut deep, Natasha stood up and made to leave.

"It's your call Clint," she said to him before she walked away "you can go looking for your own agency or you can help me save what's left of SHEILD, what's left of the good guys." Clint scoffed at his old friend,

"Don't fool yourself Nat, we're not the good guys."


	2. Tony's Errand

Dr Bruce Banner looked up at Stark Towers looming up above him. He shielded his eyes with his hand to block out the morning sun. Nine months in Sao Paulo and he still didn't own a pair of shades. The tower looked better since the last time he'd seen it, all the reparations were complete and it looked as impressive as it had done before the Battle of New York. The only change being the omission of the other letters needed to complete the logo 'Stark Towers' now only the sole 'A' remained. A fitting remainder that it was the Avengers who had saved the city from destruction.

At the gates Banner was greeted by an unfriendly security guard dressed head-to-toe in black.

"I'm here to see Tony," he said to the guard. The guard who was easily a foot taller than Banner peered down at him and grimaced.

"He told me he was expecting that Hulk guy," Bruce rolled his eyes, only Tony would go around telling people he was expecting a visit from the Hulk.

"Yeah that's me," The guard furrowed his brow.

"You're not green," he said stupidly, "The Hulk is green."

"Well if you keep me waiting any longer the green guy might make an appearance," Banner said, tired of the idiot in front of him. "Let me in already!" The guard looked hesitant but keyed in something into an electronic remote and the gates opened.

Bruce had to go through several more security checks before he could even enter the building, each one more tedious than the previous. Eventually he found himself in the elevator making his way to the top floor to see Tony. This visit had better be worthwhile, he thought as he travelled upwards. Tony had called him as a matter of urgency but had refused to tell him what the problem was. The elevator came to halt and the doors slid open. Bruce stepped out into the reception and was surprised to see a familiar face sat behind the desk.

"Agent Hill, fancy seeing you here," Maria Hill looked remarkably out of place dressed in a navy dress and sat behind a computer screen. Her once favoured SHEILD suit nowhere to be seen.

"It's Miss Hill now," she said with a smile that was not unkind "you're here to see Tony?" Bruce couldn't quite work her out. Of course SHEILD had fallen and presumably she was somewhat jobless but why was she working as Tony Stark's secretary? Surely there were more appropriate things she could be doing out there? He wanted to ask but there was something guarded about her manner and so decided he'd save that conversation for Tony. Hill made a call and Tony was suddenly at the doors of his lab.

"Brucy!" he said slapping Bruce on the back with affection "thought you'd never get here, come on let's go sit down," Bruce followed him into the lounge and Tony poured him a whiskey. "Do you like my new logo?" Tony asked him, pointing to the large 'A' visible through the giant glass windows. "I'm calling this place Avengers Tower now, Stark got a little boring." Bruce laughed,

"Is that your urgent message?" a small part of him was annoyed that Tony was so laid back, clearly there was no emergency. Chill out Bruce, he told himself it's nothing to get angry about.

"Well there's a little more to it than that," Tony said seating himself opposite Bruce on the couch. "I trust you heard all about our friend Rogers destroying SHEILD?"

"From what I heard it sounds like he did us all a massive favour," Bruce offered. Tony shrugged,

"You could say, but it also gives me a giant headache, you see, I had plans to retire." Bruce laughed at him,

"Retiring from the high-life? What, did being a billionaire get a little boring for you?" Tony took it well and chuckled.

"Okay, so retiring may not be the best choice of word, but in all seriousness I want to hang up the ol' suit of armour." Bruce was surprised, Tony had devoted his last few years to Iron Man.

"Why?" he asked. Tony shrugged, as casual as ever,

"I've come to realise that there are more important things in life." As if on cue, Pepper Potts entered the room carrying a tray of cakes, cookies and treats.

"Bruce," she said happily "good to see you," she laid the tray down on a table and gave Bruce a kiss on each cheek.

"Pepper, you're looking well," Bruce said cautiously, he knew all about her involvement in the Extremis experiments and hoped she was coping well with the aftermath.

"She's fine," Tony said seemingly reading Bruce's mind. Pepper settled down on the couch next to Tony the two of them looking the perfect couple. "Anyway, I'm in something of a crisis. As much as I want to kiss Iron Man goodnight, I can't do it unless I know I'm leaving behind something to keep the people safe."

"You're retiring not dying Tony," Bruce pointed out. He was unsure if he liked the sound of what Tony was saying, and wanted to know where he was supposed to come into it.

"I've told him this a thousand times," Pepper pointed out, helping herself to a cookie from the tray that sat between them.

"Iron Man was my way of keeping people safe, and people have come to depend on me," Tony said his face surprisingly serious "I can't just give that all up without making sure I can keep on defending people, trust me, I won't be able to sleep at night."

"Okay," Bruce said remaining cautious "so what's the plan?"

"Originally I'd relied on my modifications to SHEILD's Helicarriers, I'd equipped them with millions of dollars-worth of ammunition, they were supposed to eliminate any threats, only now good ol' Cap's gone and blown them to smithereens."

"SHEILD was infiltrated by HYDRA Tony," Bruce said "you can't blame Rogers for this."

"I'm not saying he didn't do good, but it means that I no longer have a backup plan."

Pepper cut in,

"He's eating himself up over this," she told Bruce "Stark Tower has already been redesigned as a base for all you Avengers and Tony's financing the whole thing yet he still feels inadequate." Bruce was impressed, Stark Tower rebranded as a base for the Avengers was a good plan. It was safe, secure and had all the technology they would need. And that explained Hill at the desk…sort of.

"Tony you've done enough," he said and Pepper agreed but Tony looked peeved. Bruce shook his head in defeat, "alright, what did you call me here for? There's obviously something you need me to do for you."

"I need you to help me work on some designs, I've come up with one more idea to keep the peace here on earth once I'm retired…it's my final throw of the dice" Tony said. Bruce regarded his friend with suspicion, whatever he wanted to design would likely involve weapons of destruction if it was going to defend people in the absence of Iron Man. Bruce didn't like the idea of getting involved in weapon making.

"Tony," Bruce said apologetically "I don't think there's anything I'll be able to bring to your designs," Tony leaned back in his chair and smirked triumphantly.

"It's not something I need you to bring to my designs, it's someone."


	3. Hunting

“I don’t want to sound like I’m complaining or anything…” Steve groaned inwardly, Sam was always complaining. “but I really think we should head to New York, your friend Stark can fix my wings and then it’ll be easier for us to track him down…plus I’ll feel less like your unwanted baggage.”   
It was eleven fifteen at night and Steve Rogers was at his desk rifling through all the files and reports he could find on The Winter Soldier, on Bucky. He must have been through at least a dozen reports that evening, including the one that Natasha had given him. Somehow that was the one he kept returning to, the Soviet file. It didn’t make for light reading and it pained Steve to read the grizzly details about the way Bucky had been treated. It pained him even more to read about what Bucky had done to others. The murders, attacks, beatings, things Bucky never used to stand for.  
It had been almost three months since he’d last seen Bucky aboard that third Helicarrier, things were looking bleaker every day but he was adamant not to give up hope. He would find Bucky and he would make him remember. And yet, here he was, still sat at home with no leads, no clues and no Bucky. Without Sam’s Falcon suit he was of little help but Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him so. It would be easier if he were just to leave Sam and set off on his own.   
“We can’t go to New York,” he told Sam wearily “Bucky could still be here in Washington.” Sam, who was eating from a bag of tacos and slouched on Steve’s sofa looked disgusted at him.  
“Are you serious? Tell me you’re not serious. If he was still here we’d have found him by now. I may be grounded but I’m not that useless…I hope.” Steve had no reply. He appreciated Sam’s help and his loyalty and he acknowledged that Sam had helped him take down the Helicarriers but recently he’d started to bother him. Sam wasn’t a help without the suit, only a hindrance. Steve needed someone who could do things he couldn’t and the Falcon suit would have allowed Sam to scout out ahead of Steve whilst he pieced together the jigsaw puzzle that was the Winter Soldier. Sam seemed to notice that Steve’s enthusiasm and gratitude had diminished and had started dropping comments that made Steve feel guilty.   
“We stay in Washington,” Steve said decisively. “Until we get a better lead we’re not moving…you know you’re welcome to leave this mission to me Sam, I won’t think anything of it.” Sam glared at him and dropped the taco bag to the floor. That was harsh, Steve thought I shouldn’t have said that.  
“I guess I’ll just get out of your way then Cap,” he threw on his jacket and stormed to the door.  
“Sam I’m sorry!” Steve called after him but Sam ignored him and slammed the door behind him. Steve sighed, he was stupid for saying that to him, he needed friends not enemies. He called me Cap, Steve noted he never calls me Cap. Sam must have been really mad.   
Steve turned back to his notes but it was pointless. The truth was he was out of his depth, this was the kind of work that someone trained needed to see, someone who was used to looking for hidden clues and leads. He was a soldier, not a spy. He needed Natasha for this kind of work but where she was only she knew. Steve hadn’t heard anything from her since the day she’d left Washington. He worried a little about her. All of her secrets were leaked the day the SHEILD fell. He’d seen and read about them all, about Sao Paulo, Krakow, Budapest and the rest. Her stories were no better than Bucky’s and yet, Steve thought nothing less of her. Her heart was always in the right place, that much was obvious from each incriminating story he read.  
Deciding that he was too stressed to sleep, Steve grabbed his jacket and headed out into the cool night. He stopped to take the file Natasha had given him on Bucky before he left: maybe he’d see something he’d missed if he read it somewhere else for a change. Outside Sam was well and truly gone, his car no longer parked outside. He considered going for a walk but decided instead to take a ride on his bike. He rode through the city, avoiding the wreckages of the Helicarriers that still remained at the Triskelion. He rode until he came across a traditional looking bar called The Patriot. He parked his bike outside and decided that a beer and maybe a game of pool would calm him down. Too bad I can’t get drunk, he thought glumly as he entered.  
The bar wasn’t quite what he’d expected. It was dim and dingy although busy enough and nobody paid him any heed as he walked to the bar and ordered his drink. The first and last time he got drunk was on his 21st birthday in 1939 just months before the war broke out in Europe. He and Bucky had blown all their cash at a cheap Irish bar in Brooklyn. Bucky had challenged him to darts, the loser was forced to take a drink of the bar’s ‘traditional’ Irish Whiskey and Steve’s terrible aim meant that he had lost six games straight. In the end Bucky decided he’d match Steve’s intake so that he wasn’t the only drunk at the bar.  
Steve smiled a sad smile. That was Bucky: a team player, always looking out for others. He’d never made Steve feel inadequate, an astonishing feat considering just how inadequate Steve was back before he took the serum that had made him the person he was today. Steve pulled out Bucky’s file and opened it to the one picture of him before he’d changed. It was his army enrolment photo; hair neatly combed, hat at a jaunty angle, his attempt at a serious face ruined by a characteristic smirk creeping across his face. Everything about it was how he remembered Bucky.   
“I wouldn’t wave that file around if I were you,” said a familiar voice “it could fall into the wrong hands.” Steve looked up to see Natasha sat two seats to his right, hood up with a glass of what Steve presumed to be vodka at her side.   
“Natasha,” he said with surprise “I thought you’d left Washington?” Natasha grinned and moved down to sit next to him.  
“I had,” she replied “but now I’m back.” She’d left to work out new covers, Steve remembered, perhaps they’d worked. Nobody so much as batted an eye at Natasha and that was just the way she liked it. “I told you not to get too hung up on that,” she said flipping Bucky’s file closed. Surprisingly Steve didn’t mind, he was relieved. Despite all the time he’d devoted to Bucky Natasha had played on his mind a lot the last few months, he’d felt guilty for letting her go, for letting her leave town unprotected, especially after everything she had done for him. Seeing her looking safe and well brought a great weight off of Steve’s shoulders. She did looked well at first glance, her hair was shorter than it had been last time he’d seen her and it was curled now too but her face was drawn and despite the makeup she wore Steve could still see large purple bags underneath her eyes.   
“You’re looking good,” he lied. Natasha looked him with a raised eyebrow,  
“You told me you were always honest,” she said. Steve flushed, she’d rumbled him and that was embarrassing. Regardless of his new image Captain America Steve still found it difficult to know how to behave around girls, and girls like Natasha were even more difficult than most.  
“Sorry,” he mumbled awkwardly. Natasha laughed at him and rolled her eyes,  
“You’re so easy to tease,” she laughed “did you ever call Sharon?” it was as though she’d only been gone a weekend, she was so upbeat. Steve concluded that it meant her mission to recreate herself had been successful. If only his own mission to find Bucky had been as successful.   
“What are you doing here?” he asked her ignoring her last question, he didn’t want to admit that he hadn’t spared even a moment’s thought for Sharon.   
“I’d been living in Washington for two years Rogers,” she replied her manner frosting over a little “that’s longer than anywhere else I’ve lived in the last ten years, I decided I’d come home.”   
“Where’d you go?”  
“Here, there, everywhere, my plane touched down from Moscow yesterday if that’s interesting to you?” It wasn’t at all, she was as mysterious as ever and for whatever reason this annoyed Steve. Perhaps he’d been foolish enough to think she’d come back to help him on his quest to find Bucky. Why was she here if not as a friend?   
“What do you want Natasha?” he asked suddenly “just spit it out and be done with it.” Natasha looked genuinely surprised and once again Steve realised that he’d misread the situation.   
“I came in here to say hi,” she said her voice quivering with anger “I saw your Harley outside and figured I’d check in on you,”   
“There are hundreds of Harley’s in Washington,” Steve grumbled.  
“Oh yeah? How many Harley drivers drink in a bar named The Patriot? This place is screaming out Captain America,” she folded her arms defensively and looked cross. Steve felt stupid, of course that’s why she came to the bar, she’s a spy she notices things like bar names. So she really did come in just to say hello.  
“I’m sorry,” he sighed “I guess I was just a little surprised to see you here in Washington.” Natasha neither accepted nor rebuked his apology but her smirk and eyebrow raise seemed to suggest he was forgiven.  
“Well, if I’m honest I didn’t expect to see you here either,” she traced her finger around the lettering on the front of Bucky’s file “I thought you’d have gone after this guy.”   
“I would if I knew where he’d gone,” Steve replied miserably “but Sam’s grounded and I’ve been looking through all the files and reports I can find on Bucky but I can’t find anything useful. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t even know where to start.”  
“Well he’s a free agent now,” Natasha pointed out “unless those HYDRA agents who’re still out there have rounded him up which I doubt considering his strength.” Steve nodded sadly, he’d hoped Bucky was out there solo and had tried not to even consider what would happen to him if HYDRA got to him first. “If he is alone,” Natasha said thoughtfully “then we need to think of places he’d go,”  
“Russia?” Steve offered  
“Not likely,” Natasha said with a knowing smile “the place is teaming with HYDRA, I should know, I’ve just got back from there. No, he’d go somewhere where he feels safe…” Steve wasn’t so sure, Bucky was borderline invincible and now that SHEILD was gone and HYDRA mostly underground there would be few people hunting him down. He pointed this out to Natasha but she shook her head,  
“No,” she said bluntly “you’re forgetting one important detail Rogers. Something happened the day the Helicarriers went down, he almost killed you but for whatever reason he didn’t finish you off. Instead he saved you from drowning. A tiny -no- minuscule part of him remembers something about his past, he knows he’s not who he thinks he is so he must have researched things.” Steve remembered part of his fight with Bucky on the Helicarrier,  
“I told him his name,” he said to Natasha “James Buchanan Barnes.”   
“Then he has a name to work with,” Natasha said “tell me Steve, where would any research lead him to in order to find out more about his past as James Barnes?” Steve knew the answer, it had been there all the time and he’d ignored it for months. He turned to Natasha and sighed;  
“New York City.”


	4. Looking for Thor

The King watched as Heimdall looked out into the realms. His stomach churning with anticipation. A simple question was all he asked but the answer could result in disaster.  
Can you see my son?  
Thor’s whereabouts were important to keep track of, he was still heir to Asgard and of course, a caring father like Odin would want to know how his son was faring on Earth. Sadly, caring too much for Thor was a strain on this king, on Loki.  
“I see him your Grace,” Heimdall stated. “He sits with his maiden. He is happy.” Loki had worked hard on his relieved face and smiled as warmly as he could, conjuring up a tear to his old, milky Odin eyes.   
“It pleases me to know his heart is filled with happiness,” he recited “I trust there is no danger to be seen?”  
“None sir,”   
Good, Loki thought as despicable as he is, Thor is more use to me and to Asgard alive. Many Asgardians missed the God of Thunder some a little too much for Loki’s liking. As Odin he had had to tell the people of Asgard that Thor had refused the throne and whilst there was a general disappointment the likes of Sif and the Warriors Three were proving to be a nuisance.   
“Grant us leave of Asgard Your Majesty,” Lady Sif had begged him no more than days after Thor’s departure “we will seek him and make him see sense! He is the rightful heir of Asgard!” It had taken all of Loki’s willpower not to slay her on the spot, instead he had forbidden anyone from interfering in Thor’s business. Part of him wanted to throw her to the dungeons to shut her up but he knew better than that, it was not something his father would have done.   
Why must people mourn him so? Loki fumed silently He has never ruled the people of Asgard, I did! Thor is not the one thought dead, I am!   
The reaction to his apparent death had angered him. People had celebrated, thrown lavish parties and drank themselves stupid when he announced it. Not one person shed a tear for him, only for the pain Odin must have been suffering. Nobody said a silent prayer for him, it made his blood boil. As Odin he had draped the Great Hall of Asgard in black as a symbol of Loki’s death, he had ordered them to mourn, demanded that they show some, any kind of sadness for the fallen King of Asgard.  
They’ll all be sorry soon. Once enough time has passed, our dear King Odin shall sleep his final slumber and Loki shall return from the dead as the rightful, true King of Asgard. They’d have no precious Thor to defend them once he was King.  
“Will that be all, my King?” Heimdall was watching him with those cold eyes of his.   
How I wish you’d remained frozen, Loki thought bitterly. He nodded and turned to leave when suddenly a thought crossed his mind. Heimdall was, with his gift, quite possibly the biggest threat to his plan. After all, he could see everything. Could there be a possibility that he was not fooled by Loki’s illusion.  
“Heimdall,” he said, his Odin voice trembling a little “can you cast out your gaze once more for me this evening?”  
“It is my duty, my King.” Replied the guardian. Loki took a breath, it was a chance he had to take:  
“Can you see Loki?”  
“My King, Loki is dead,” replied Heimdall.  
“I know,” he replied “but, can you still see him? Please, look for me.”  
“As you wish my King,” Heimdall turned and looked out into the realms. Loki held his breath, his hand poised ready at the helm of his sword should he require it. Heimdall turned slowly, his face expressionless,  
“No my King, Loki is gone.”


	5. Breaking Free

“Today is the day sister, today is the day we finally walk free!” Pietro’s eyes were hungry with anticipation and his cheeks flushed with excitement. Wanda on the other hand felt nothing but dread and fear.   
“We’re letting you out,” Baron Strucker had told them last night under the dim glow of the candlelight. “Tomorrow your mission shall begin. You shall go forth and carry out the work of HYDRA for we have not fallen yet and never shall yield.”   
Captivity scared Wanda but freedom chilled her with fear. Once they were free, she and her brother would be alone for good. There would nobody to guide them, counsel them, help them, they would be utterly alone. She had told her brother of her doubts but he had simply cast them aside.  
“Nonsense sister,” he’d said with a wave of his hand “tomorrow is the dawning of a new age, the age of miracles.” She’d scolded him for reciting the empty words of Baron Strucker. Those words meant nothing to her, the only miracle was that she and her brother were still alive. After all, they’d been through so much. Seized from their orphanage ten years ago and smuggled away to the dark, cold world of HYDRA and the Baron. They’d been beaten, starved, experimented on and confined to cages like animals. They were told to hone their skills and learn the disciplines of self-control. They’d been taught the art of combat, forced to train for hours each day. They’d been taught how to read and decrypt codes, to speak in foreign tongues, how to pose as strangers, all the traits a HYDRA agent would ever need. And all this time her brother had cursed, protested and resisted. Never once had Pietro shown any sign of giving in to Baron Strucker’s minions.  
“You shall never make us the monsters you are!” he had spat at them in an angry rage. But all of that had changed. Suddenly Pietro wanted to work for HYDRA. He wanted to rid the world of humanity. She didn’t know what had brought on this sudden change in him, maybe the beatings and the experiments had finally broken Pietro. As much as it pained her, Wanda could do nothing but stand by him, he was, after all, her brother and the only thing she had in the whole world.   
But how can he be so blind? How can he be so stupid?  
“Today is the beginning of our new lives.” Pietro said with a beam.   
“Today is the beginning of the end.” Wanda chided. Pietro scowled at her,  
“Why are you so negative sister?” he asked her, his voice sulky like a child “can’t you see what this means for us? We are free!”  
“And you are a fool,” she replied bitterly. Pietro gave her a strange look, his face smiled but his eyes were tinged with sadness,  
“How little faith you have in me, sister.”   
Suddenly the doors burst open and ten of Baron Strucker’s guards entered, all of them heavily armed.   
“It’s time,” one of them said gruffly. He made to grab Wanda’s arm and lift her from her seat but he was thrown backward with such a force that he slammed into the concrete wall opposite and landed slumped on the floor in a pool of his own blood. Wanda hadn’t meant to kill him, only to get him away from her but Pietro had made her so angry that she was struggling to control herself. The remaining nine guards pointed their guns at her.  
“Not another move Witch!” one of them cried, the tremble in his voice betraying him. Pietro snarled at them but Wanda remained still. The guards seemed happy with her and ordered them to stand. They were lead down the dark corridor of the holding going deeper and deeper until Wanda no longer recognised where they were. The guards kept a wary eye on her and her brother but she had no intention of attacking any of them. Eventually they reached a door marked with the HYDRA skull. The guards pushed them inside with the butt of their guns.   
Inside sat Baron Strucker. He was surrounded by at least thirty of his best HYDRA combatants and countless other guards and agents. Sitting in the corner of the room, face half obscured by shadows sat the most frightening figure Wanda had ever laid eyes upon. The man’s arms were burnt and scarred to a an extent that Wanda could see not a single remnant of healthy skin. Over his face he wore a black mask with the image of a skull embellished on it in a ghostly white. In that instant Wanda feared this man like no one else.  
“At last,” the Baron grinned once she and Pietro were inside. “I thought perhaps we had lost you. It is most unlike you to be late Pietro.” Pietro said nothing and the Baron laughed. He stood and addressed the room,  
“Today we begin the first part of our mission. HYDRA is weakened but we shall rise from the ashes stronger and more powerful than ever. In a few moments you shall be released into the centre of Moscow where you shall begin our process of elimination and preservation. We have agents out there, some too scared to seek us out, others simply do not know how to find us – we shall instead find them. We also have enemies out there, those who wish us all dead – we shall kill them. You all know your tasks and you shall all fulfil them. We must take back what was ours and what is rightfully ours! The siege of Moscow begins today! And thus begins the Age of Miracles!” A chorus of cheers filled the room, led by Pietro. The Baron smiled coldly,  
“Hail HYDRA!” he shouted.   
“HAIL HYDRA!” chorused the room. Wanda said the words but did not mean them, they meant nothing to her.   
“Crossbones shall lead the escort to the city and from there you shall begin the attack,” Baron Strucker said, behind him the grizzly masked man stood and clasped his scarred hands together. “I want you all back here by sundown where you shall hand over your hostages.” He turned to Wanda and Pietro, “I hope you are ready my children,” he said making Wanda’s blood boil “I am counting on you two the most.”  
“I will not let you down sir,” Pietro said solemnly. The Baron smiled and turned to Wanda.  
“You have my complete devotion sir,” she said tartly. With that, two doors opened at the back of the room revealing several heavily armoured trucks. The guards all filed inside them and the engines revved.   
“Come on sister,” Pietro said taking hold of Wanda’s arm and steering her to the closest truck. She clambered inside and sat beside her brother. The engine started and the truck began to roll away leading them to their so called freedom. The daylight hurt Wanda’s eyes and before long they were streaming with tears.   
“Do not be afraid,” Pietro whispered into her ear “I won’t leave your side.” Wanda dried her eyes and instead tried to visualise the faces of all of the targets she’d been memorizing for the last few months. SHEILD agents known to frequent Moscow such as Agent Romanoff, enemies of HYDRA such as Dr Erik Selvig believed to be in Moscow for research purposes and of course everyone at the Stark Industries Offices in the centre of the city. Wanda knew she was supposed to rescue HYDRA agents too but she was so nervous at this point that their faces all blurred into one. The most important target of all though was their prime weapon, now missing but likely to be in hiding in Moscow: The Winter Soldier.   
The cars rolled into the city centre and stopped one after the other in front of the Stark Offices. Civilians looked on with confusion etched on their faces. Get away from here, Wanda thought, nobody cares about you, you’ll be killed in an instant. Someone handed Wanda a gun. The metal felt heavy and cold in her hands and far too cumbersome to use effectively. They filed out one by one into the road. Wanda heard a scream and shot and then it began.   
Bullets flew around her head from all directions. The whole convoy charged forward to the Stark offices, a handful of agents chose to enter the shops and cafes along the road screaming the names of those on their wanted lists.   
“Move forward sister!” Pietro said his hand at the small of her back pushing her along. She allowed him to direct her through the swarm of bullets. People were screaming and running, car alarms were blaring and already the police were on the scene. It was chaos. Pietro was leading her to the front of all the fighting, slowly picking up his pace in his eagerness to reach the action. Wanda would have tried to resist had she not known of his powers. They reached the front line of agents who were shielding behind civilian cars and firing at the Moscow police who were engaging in the gunfire.   
“Stark’s place is better protected than we thought!” one of their guards said to them as they took cover beside him. “should have expected it really, the bastard’s one for high end security after all!” Wanda watched as the guard grinned when his bullet hit an officer in the throat, spilling his blood all over the pavement. Wanda felt sick. To her left something exploded and a handful of HYDRA agents took advantage and hurried forward. “Quick go!” the guard said to them “I’ll cover you!” Pietro helped her up and together they hurried forward, following the other agents through the smoke. A cry of anguish from behind told Wanda that the guard was now dead. She made to look but Pietro placed a firm hand on her cheek to prevent her.  
“Don’t.” he said softly.   
They hurried through the smoke to find that the fighting had turned into hand-to-hand combat. Most of the police lay dead as did a handful of unlucky HYDRA agents. Stark’s security were armoured and bullets were proving ineffective. They were right in the middle of the conflict Wanda realised as she glanced around seeing fighting at every angle.   
Suddenly a Stark security guard threw a punch right in her face and she fell to the floor blinded with pain. She heard Pietro roar and looked up in time to see the guard make a grab for her brother who as quick as lightning darted behind him and slit his throat. In a blink he was at her side, helping her up.  
“Are you alright?” he asked her his face etched with worry and a speck of blood spattered on his cheek. His quick eyes darted around suspiciously, he handed her another gun, “start shooting at them,” he told her in a low voice “just start shooting and stay close to me.” Something about his tone of voice made Wanda listen. She began firing the gun at the Stark guards, hitting one of them right in the forehead.  
“Nice shot Witch!” cried a blonde haired HYDRA agent. He’d distracted himself from his own battle and Wanda saw the grenade hurtling at him before he did. Instinctively she raised her hands: the grenade stopped mid-air, spun and then hurtled back in the direction it had come, exploding amongst a group of four Stark guards. In the meantime Pietro had tackled the guard to the ground, the two of them landing about a hundred meters away. Pietro was back at her side in a second. “Nice one Freaks!” the shaken agent called after them before taking fire at the police officer who was rounding on him.  
“They’ve seen enough of us now,” Pietro said, his hands were suddenly on her waist. “we’ve proven our loyalty to them.” His grip tightened.  
“Pietro, what are you-”   
“Just hold on tight!” He lifted her off of the ground and took off at top speed, racing away from the fighting. They raced down back alleys and streets until the gunshots were mere pops of sound in the distance. Still Pietro didn’t slow his pace. In fact, he increased it running so fast that he scaled the walls of apartment blocks and was running from roof to roof. Wanda gripped tightly to him for fear of slipping from his grasp. “Did they honestly think we’d help them after everything they’ve done to us!?” Pietro was raging whether to her or to himself Wanda couldn’t be sure. “Those soft-brained idiots! HYDRA is the scum of the earth! I am nobody’s slave, from this day on we walk free sister! Truly free!”   
Wanda could have wept, it had all been just an act! Pietro had allowed them to believe that they were ready to serve HYDRA just so that they would finally free them both.  
“We’ll be safe now sister, they’ll never enslave us again!”   
Something hit Pietro. He let out a gasp of pain and suddenly his legs tumbled over each other and he crashed to a stop. Wanda fell out of his grip and she hit the floor of the roof they were on rolling out of control, the world upside down. She spread her hands and brought herself to a stop landing on her feet. She glanced around and saw Pietro grounded. She hurried to him but before she could reach him a man jumped out from behind an air vent.   
“Don’t move!” he shouted and Wanda saw that he was aiming a bow and arrow at her brother’s head. On the ground Pietro groaned and Wanda saw that a second arrow had embedded itself in his chest.  
“Please don’t hurt him!” Wanda begged the archer.   
“You’re HYDRA.” The man replied.   
“No.” Pietro groaned. The man silenced him with a kick to the ribs. He pulled back on his bow a little more.  
“Please,” Wanda begged “please, we’re not HYDRA, they’ve had us imprisoned! He’s my brother, he’s all I have! Please don’t kill him please! I’ll do anything you ask I swear just don’t kill my brother” The man gave her a hard look, on the ground Pietro was gasping with pain.  
“Alright,” he said slowly lowering his bow “if you’re not HYDRA then you’d better come with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you're enjoying this story of mine - would really appreciate a bit of feedback if anybody would like to leave some comments - bring it on, the good the bad and the ugly! :)


	6. Pym

Bruce rubbed his hands against his jeans. They were sweating. That always happened when he was agitated. Bruce hadn't been agitated like this in a long time. He noticed that the po-faced secretary kept giving him suspicious looks.

The waiting area of Pym Laboratories was a clinical white. Both the floor and the ceiling were tiled and polished, and ironically it was very stark. There was no table of cheap magazines, no vending machine in the corner not even the sound of a radio.

Bruce checked his watch, he'd been waiting for over half an hour and there was no sign of the famous Henry Pym anywhere. He decided to ask the secretary what the wait was about.

"Mr Pym will be with you shortly," she quipped when he enquired.

"You know, I got places to be." Bruce lied in a desperate attempt to speed things along. It wasn't as if he was relishing the talk to come at the best of times. Henry Pym had a notorious reputation of being temperamental. Sometimes he'd be eager to help you out other times he didn't even listen to what you had to say. Bruce figured he was likely to fall into the latter category especially once Pym found out that he was here on behalf of Tony.

Before Bruce had a chance to argue with the secretary any more the lab doors burst open and Henry Pym himself entered.

"Doctor Bruce Banner!" he declared loudly with his arms stretched out as though in welcome. "So good to finally meet you sir!" he strutted forward and shook Bruce firmly by the hand. Bruce was taken aback. He'd seen pictures of Henry Pym countless times in the past but in real life he looked like a movie star. His boyish blonde hair was artistically swept, his smile was gloriously straight, he had striking eyes and up close his skin looked as soft as a newly born baby.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting sir, but I was halfway through a breakthrough!" Pym was saying excitedly. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and began to lead him through the doors into his office. It was as sparse as the waiting area; a large, plain wooden desk sat in the centre of the room with a chair either side of it. Pym sat behind the desk and pressed a button on the white phone machine sat on the desk.

"A pot of coffee please Lucy," he said "or would you prefer tea?" he asked Bruce.

"Coffee's fine." The door opened and 'Lucy' entered with a tray of coffee and biscuits. That was quick! Bruce thought unsure whether to feel impressed or repulsed. Pym poured then leaned back in his chair, spinning on it slightly.

"So Doctor Banner, what can I do for you? Need a new gamma reader? An alpha particle transmitter?"

"No. Thank you Mr Pym you're very kind but-"

"Please!" Pym interjected "Call me Hank, Mr Pym is my father!" he nibbled playfully at a biscuit.

"Alright, Hank, I'm actually here on behalf of Tony Stark." 'Hank' froze. He visibly stiffened and the Hollywood smile was gone. Bruce had feared this. Tony had told him that he and Pym didn't see eye to eye but Bruce had hoped Pym would be more reasonable.

"I didn't have you down as a dogsbody Banner," Pym said stiffly "if Tony Stark wants to speak with me he can come here himself, I'm a very busy man you know."

"Stark didn't think you'd want to see him." Bruce told him. Pym seemed to ease a little,

"Well then he'd be right. Whatever he wants tell him it's a no, I'm not interested."

"You haven't even heard what he wants yet," Bruce pointed out.

"I imagine it's a load of bullshit." Pym said stubbornly. Bruce rolled his eyes in frustration, this was going to be harder than he'd anticipated.

"Oh come on Hank!" he said "If it were bullshit do you really think I'd be here sitting with you? I have better things to do with my time than play envoy for you and Stark." Pym glared at him stubbornly and Bruce was almost certain he was going to be sent away unheard but the blonde scientist sighed,

"Go ahead then: shoot."

"Tony Stark wants you to join him in his next project," Bruce began. He figured he ought to test the water with Pym.

"I can't imagine why." Pym said his brow furrowed.

"He's planning on retiring."

"From what? His hectic bachelor lifestyle?"

"From Iron Man." Pym shrugged as though he didn't really care much for Iron Man. "He wants to leave the superhero lifestyle behind but figures he can't until he's created something to leave in his place."

"Can't someone else just wear one of his stupid suits?"

"They require constant maintenance, something Stark doesn't want to do. He wants something long lasting and permanent." Bruce explained. "He thinks you'll be able to help him out."

"Dr Banner I am a scientist not an inventor." Pym said sternly. "What exactly does he want from me?"

"Your knowledge and expertise."

Hank Pym leaned back in his chair and laughed loudly.

"Dr Banner do you have any idea why Tony Stark and I aren't on speaking terms?"

"Not really." Bruce admitted, he didn't really want to pry when Tony had said that the two of them barely made contact. Pym stood and made for the door.

"Follow me," he said. Bruce got up and followed Pym down the white corridor and to a room marked 'Lab 1.' Inside the room was empty except for a large machine in the middle of the room. It looked like something that would fire a laser or some sort of beam but wasn't something Bruce instantly recognised.

"What do you see Dr Banner?" Pym asked him.

"Something I don't understand." Bruce admitted. Pym laughed and slapped Bruce on the shoulder.

"That my friend fires tens of thousands of Pym Particles." Bruce looked blankly at him "They're named after me. They're my entire life's work."

"What's so special about them?" Bruce asked.

"Pym particles allow things to alter their mass, either by shrinking things down to the size of a single particle or sizing them up."

"That's very impressive." Bruce said wondering why he'd been told this. He really wanted to get back to Tony's offer.

"Impressive they are. Although, possibly not as impressive as the HP Particle." Pym said with a sad sort of smile.

"What are they?" Bruce asked feeling much like a silly schoolboy who hadn't done the homework.

"They never quite saw the light of day I'm afraid. You see, once upon a time Tony Stark and I worked together on several projects. Most were about developing new kinds of explosives and the correct materials to store them in. I developed the HP Particle as a way of causing maximum damage during an explosion. They reacted with each other in a sort of chain reaction. Anyway, the concept wasn't perfect but I soon realised that developing it and perfecting it was more important that the weapons it could be used for. I wanted to go down the medical route, having them spread and react with each other in order to fight off infectious diseases and cancers." Bruce listened intently as Pym continued,

"My only problem was that the formula wasn't patented. Tony developed the formula and made some adjustments which lead to his creation of the Jericho Missile. His adjusted formula became patented and I was left with nothing." Hank Pym turned to Bruce with a dry expression. "So tell me Doctor Banner, why should I work with Tony Stark when there's a chance he'll do the exact same thing to the Pym Particle?"

"Because he's not the old Tony Stark anymore."


End file.
